Fifty chicken recipes, each more seductive than the last, in a book that makes every dinner a turn-on. “I want you to see this. Then you’ll know everything. It’s a cookbook,” he says and opens to some recipes, with color photos. “I want to prepare you, very much.” This isn’t just about getting me hot till my juices run clear, and then a little rest. There’s pulling, jerking, stuffing, trussing. Fifty preparations. He promises we’ll start out slow, with wine and a good oiling . . . Holy crap.“I will control everything that happens here,” he says. “You can leave anytime, but as long as you stay, you’re my ingredient.” I’ll be transformed from a raw, organic bird into something—what? Something delicious. So begins the adventures of Miss Chicken, a young free-range, from raw innocence to golden brown ecstasy, in this spoof-in-a-cookbook that simmers in the afterglow of E.L. James’s sensational Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy. Like Anastasia Steele, Miss Chicken finds herself at the mercy of a dominating man, in this case, a wealthy, sexy, and very hungry chef.

And before long, from unbearably slow drizzling to trussing, Miss Chicken discovers the sheer thrill of becoming the main course. A parody in three acts—“The Novice Bird” (easy recipes for roasters), “Falling to Pieces” (parts perfect for weeknight meals), and “Advanced Techniques” (the climax of cooking)—Fifty Shades of Chicken is a cookbook of fifty irresistible, repertoire-boosting chicken dishes that will leave you hungry for more.

With memorable tips and revealing photographs, Fifty Shades of Chicken will have you dominating dinner.

Excerpt

Oh, chicken, did you just cluck at me?” Crap. “No,” I squawk hoarsely. “I believe you did. Yes, you did. You remember what I said I’d do to you if you clucked?” Aw, jeez. “Yes.” I pause before I add, “Yes, Chef.” “My word is my bond,” he crows. “I’m going to spank you. And then I will cook you, very hot and hard.” I know what his hard cooking is like. “I’m not sure I can take any more quite yet,” I whine. “Stamina, Miss Hen,” he says brightly. My inner goddess has donned a tiny cheerleader’s uniform and starts to chant. Give me a B! Whack. Give me an L! Whack. Give me an A! Whack. Give me a D! E! S! Whack whack whack. What does that spell? Control freak poultry-beater, that’s what it spells. But I don’t fancy another swat, so I manage to keep the thought to myself for once. He roasts me gently until I reach sweet doneness. “You are a most beautiful sight,” he says, pulling me out of the Wolf. “And your smell is intoxicating.” Afterward, everywhere he spanked me is stinging and warm. The experience was humiliating and mustardy and unbelievably hot. I definitely don’t want him to do that to me again. But now that it’s over I have this warm, safe, golden brown afterglow. I feel contented, and totally confused. I must remember to cluck at him more often.

1. Rub the chicken all over, including the cavity, with the salt and pepper.

2. In a small bowl, stir together the mustard, basil, and garlic and slap it hard onto the bird everywhere you just rubbed the salt and pepper. Refrigerate overnight or for at least 1 hour so it can recover.

3. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Place a rack in a roasting pan.

4. Carefully lay the bird on the rack, breast down. Drizzle with 1 tablespoon of the oil. Roast for 30 minutes. Thrust a wooden spoon into the chicken cavity and flip the bird over so the breasts are up; drizzle with remaining oil. Continue to roast until the bird is golden brown and quite done, about 30 to 40 minutes longer. Enjoy.

***

The way his apron hangs from his hips already has me all wobbly. But as he coats my thighs with sticky liquid I can hardly contain myself. Is it the wine, or is my aroma starting to drive him crazy too? He heats me up fast, it won’t take much to finish me off now. His lips quirk up into a smile. My own juices are mixing with the coating and running all over the place. I get the strangest, sweetest, hedonistic feeling up and down. It’s epicureanism run wild! He spreads my thighs out on a plate. Sticky hands and at least five wet napkins. What will the housekeeper think? Who cares?

1. Preheat the oven to 450° F. In a large bowl, toss the chicken, garlic, 1 teaspoon salt, and pepper together.

2. In a small saucepan, simmer together onion, wine, bay leaf, cinnamon stick, and a pinch of salt until most of the liquid has evaporated, 15 to 20 minutes. Toss in the honey and butter.

3. Spoon the mixture over the chicken and toss well. Spread thighs, onion mixture, and any juices onto a baking sheet. Bake until chicken is no longer pink and onions are meltingly tender and caramelized, about 25 minutes.

About F.L. Fowler

Praise

“…it will undoubtedly become one of America's most cherished cookbooks of all time.”-Eater.com

“Like any good parody, this manages to make fun of both the flabby porn of "Fifty Shades" and the gushing language of "food porn…” -BonAppetit.com

“…this genius little tidbit that combines the sexual and the culinary…” -Glamour.com

“All signs indicate that Fifty Shades of Chicken, a new cookbook parodying erotic novel Fifty Shades of Grey, is the real deal. We can't get over the hilarity of the description on the book's web site.” -Huffington Post

"The book that spawned “mommy porn” has now given a new meaning to playing with your food. . . You’ll never look at chickens the same way again." -Salon.com